


After The Final Curtain

by Checklatechippancakes



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Blood, Drugging, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Murder, References to Shakespeare, Shakespeare Quotations, Shakespearean Murder, Theatre of Blood, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, it's literally Dennis killing the lancers ala shakespeare, the YB/BG get better au, there is a lot of crying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Checklatechippancakes/pseuds/Checklatechippancakes
Summary: Yuuri comes back into Dennis' life after he hits a rough patch. Together, and with help from some old friends, they enact revenge in a way they know best.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the 1973 film "Theatre of Blood" and was exceptionally inspired to write an au with Dennis as the main character. Each Lancer's death is a direct reference to the movie's/original Shakespearean death, and the order they die is exactly the same as the movie. The first chapter has no violence, but each following chapter can be read on their own or skipped if you don't want to read about your fav dying.

Time was weird after the end of the war. Dennis smiled as he waved goodbye to Yuuya going back to his home dimension, but a stabbing pain throbbed through him seeing a bit of Yuuri in him.

Yuuri was gone, wasn’t he? No one had bothered to tell him. What relationship could Dennis possibly have with Yuuri? Both of them were nobodies. Why would Yuuri care about anyone. If Yuuri didn’t care about his counterparts, of course he couldn’t possibly care for any other person.

Weeks passed. People moved on from Academia. The island school wasn’t being dismantled, but it was to be repurposed. Who knows what that purpose was. If it was to be remade into a normal school, Dennis was sure there would be backlash from those who were abused in the system. Not to mention all the alive parents who were trying to fight in court over what happened to their children.

Dennis wanted a different revenge. Leo did far less to him than the… _others_.

He shook his head. Get revenge of the Lancers? They were just dumb kids. They didn’t break him down to the point he saw himself as nothing, or bully him constantly seeing his entertainment as nothing more than a joke.

Wait.

He smacked his fist on the wall, shoulders twitching. Some fucking team they were. The only good members were the ones he never had to meet.

A hand touched the small of his back. “Having a pity party, Dennis?” The voice asked. “The Professor doesn’t let us have parties in the hallways.”

Dennis turned his head, seeing what was unmistakably Yuuri. He pulled himself up, lips quivering. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going- “Yuuri!” Dennis sobbed, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s neck as he fell to his knees. “Please don’t be part of my imagination. Please be real. Please. It’s all I want anymore.”

As Dennis cried into his shirt, Yuuri gently returned the hug, patting his back. “I’m real. Stop crying Dennis.” While still mean, his voice was more tender. “Leo must have fucked something up and I’m back.”

He wiped his tears away, getting up. “How do I know you’re real?”

Yuuri smirked, looking up to Dennis. “Well, I could let you watch as I scare some kids that thought I was dead.” His face turned more serious. “But also, I saw Serena earlier. She immediately flipped me off and ran away.” One of his eyebrows quirked. “Unless you willed her into reality as well?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Dennis’ face became exceptionally serious, an expression that somewhat worried Yuuri. “Yuuri, I need you to help me.”

“That’s no surprise,” Yuuri snarked. “Doing what?”

Dennis let in a small breath of air. If he went through with it, there was no turning back. “I need you… to call The Merchants of Menace.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened in shock. “The Merchants? I haven’t seen them since Freshman year!”

His arms went slack, face begging. “Yuuri please. I need our group back together. I just need to talk.”

Slowly, Yuuri’s face turned into an acute smile. “If it’ll shut you up.”

* * *

 

The next day, The Merchants of Menace (aka Dennis’ old Shakespeare club from Academia) met in the park, the three confused, being unexpectedly reunited.

Gloria controlled the lighting and sound. She wasn’t as big on acting as the other four, no matter how much they flattered her improvisations.

Grace made the costumes. She was able to sew the best out of the group, as well as she didn’t mind pricking her fingers, even after accidentally sewing them together once.

Edo did the finances. While it wasn’t a big job since they only put on two full and one half finished play, Edo still preferred the power it entailed. Plus Edo was always willing to tell Grace her costumes plans were too expensive.

The three turned their attention to Dennis and Yuuri walking over to them. “What is all this about?” Gloria asked, crossing her arms.

“Yeah,” Grace added, cocking her head, “are you here to like… apologize for abandoning us?”

“Abandon!?” Yuuri snarled. “Edo left us first caring more about his fancy Commander-in-Chief role!”

“Hey!” Edo shouted, standing up. “How dare you chide _me_ for following the Professor’s orders, you lapdog!”

“Guys!” Dennis yelled, pushing the two apart. “Focus! We’re not here to decide whose fault it is for the fall of our group. We’re here for... _The Bard._ ”

“You want to do a reunion tour?” Grace asked. “What play?”

Dennis ran his hand through his hair. “I guess we could call it that. But…” Yuuri pulled a stack of papers out from his bag, each with a scene from different play by Shakespeare, handing the packets to the three. At the top of each script was a name written in Dennis’ handwriting.

Gloria took the first of the stack, looking for the cast list. Edo looked over Grace’s shoulder as she flitted through the titles. “Dennis, none of these are comedies. You know those are my favourite!”

“Why did you choose this scene?” Gloria added. “It’s right at the end of the third act.”

“Why is Yuuya’s name on this one?” Edo asked, pulling one from the bottom of Grace’s stack.

“Ooh!” Grace squealed, rocking on her heels. “Maybe he’ll get to be a part of our tour!”

“But we don’t even know who this ‘Tsukikage’ is,” Gloria said, patting her script.

Edo’s eyes narrowed. “Dennis, what _are_ you thinking?”

Dennis paced a bit, breathing in sharply through his nose. “I need you to help me… kill the bastards that hurt me.”

The three exchanged glances. “ _Kill?_ ” Edo asked.

“Normally I’d be fine with a little casual harm,” Gloria mused, crossing her arms, “but Gracie has a crush on Yuuya and I’m not sure I can put her through that.”

“I do not!” Grace shouted, punching her sister’s arm.

Dennis shrugged weakly. “Yuuya’s doesn’t really involve us killing anyone actually. Some of them it’s just a little revenge.”

“Why do you want revenge?” Edo asked. “What did they do to you? There are _many_ scripts here.”

Dennis’ eyes blanked an immediate flashback to the times he got close to being carded and when he fell off the boat. “I… they did a lot.”

“I assure you, they’re nuts.” Yuuri spoke up, earlier just silently watching the four panic. “I met some and I wish I didn’t. _Oh,_ by the by, you know _Yuuya killed me, right?_ That goody-goody boy shit is a gross play.” Yuuri frowned as Grace’s face turned sad. “Edo-”

“Yeah, I did see it happen,” Edo added, desperately trying to avoid those demonic red eyes that plagued his dreams for weeks.

“So…” Dennis quietly asked, sensing the tension in the air. “Can you help me? I don’t think I’ll need your help for all of them but…”

The three looked at each other, worry swept over them. Gloria shrugged, walking forward. “Being a good guy is boring anyways.”

Edo nodded. “I actually recognize some of those names, and I think they deserve what’s coming.”

Grace’s arms crossed in thought, the four looking to her, awaiting response. “Well… fine! But only if I get to pick the first script!”

“Second, actually,” Dennis said as Grace walked to join the group. “A certain date is coming up and we only have one shot at this.”

The five walked, their shadows uniting into one. “Merchants? It’s good to be back together,” Yuuri said, as the five walked to Dennis’ house to prepare.


	2. Act I

Subject:  _ Shingo Sawatari. Age 14. Student at both Maiami Second Middle School and Leo Duel School (LDS). Frequently switches decks, but prefers Pendulum Cards. One of the original nine Lancers. Can be very rude and is very self-centered. Getting him talking about himself is as good a distraction as it is annoying. _

Shingo looked at his phone again, email bright and flashy. “This March 15th you will be awarded as the greatest duelist in Miami City...” he read, touching his heart, breathing in the cool air. Finally… recognition. He wished he could invite Yuuya along to rub it in his face, but the invite said it was a closed ceremony. “I can still tell him tomorrow,” he said, pushing the door in with his shoulder. 

The gymnasium was bright and a large banner read “Congratulations!” in loopy pink letters. A podium stood in the middle of an arch of folding chairs. He walked towards the chairs, stopping to note the punch on the snack table. “Well, they’re probably going to ask me to say a few words… might as well wet my palate.” 

He poured a cup, admiring the lovely ruby red colour. Red truely was his favourite colour; not pink. As he took a sip of the punch, his mouth watered seeing that the pie  _ was  _ in fact sweet milk apple-berry pie, and there was a bottle of pure honey right next to the server. It’d be  _ rude  _ to not have some. As he cut a slice onto a plate, a hand slapped his back, Shingo arching.  _ Caught _ .

“Hey man, great job!” Shingo turned to see a boy in the same uniform as him, smiling at him.

Shingo had no idea who it was (who keeps track of  _ all  _ their fans anyways?) but he put on his dazzling smile. “Of course! I’ll be sure to give out autographs after the award. So do try to be patient.” He threw out a wink.

“Me first!” A girl he also didn’t recognize called.

“I can’t wait!” Shouted another.

With all the new faces, Shingo was starting to hope his posse or at the very least his  _ dad  _ was invited. “ _ Not that he’d actually come… _ ” he thought, holding up his smile.

Shingo had no idea how he had missed all the people in the gymnasium. With just a quick turn to the food, at least two dozen students ended up in the chairs that appeared empty when he walked in. No matter. Shingo quickly scarfed down the delicious pie and washed it down with the punch. 

He found an empty chair in the front row that read “ _ Reserved for Sawatari Shingo _ ” and had a laurel wreath around the words. Pleased, he sat down, smiling at the students sitting next to him. How lucky they were.

The lights dimmed, stray students finding their seats. Approaching the podium was a somewhat familiar redhead-  _ where did Shingo know him from? _ \- and a man in glasses that vaguely resembled Yuuya.

“Good evening, Maiami Second Middle School elite,” the ginger greeted. Well,  _ that  _ explained why Yuuya and Yuzu weren’t there. The crowd clapped, Shingo joining in. “I’m sure you all know why we’re here, but.” The purple haired person held a shiny golden trophy, smiling up to his partner. “We’re all here to honour the proud achievements of our very own Sawatari Shingo!” The crowd cheered thunderously, Shingo soaking it all in, sending him into a little high.

Picking up their cue, Shingo stood up, waving prestigiously at the crowd as he got on stage. The assistant- who looked more and more like Yuuya the closer he got- handed him the trophy, the bright flashes of cameras filling his vision. His smile was as bright as the crowd was loud. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the assistant giving a gentle if not mischievous smile. Well, if he ruined the shot he’d demand they crop him out. No one would discredit him and get away with it.

The redhead waved slightly, everyone immediately putting their cameras away. “Sawatari? A few words?”

Nodding, Shingo walked over to the podium, lovering the microphone. “I am sure this was a unanimous decision, but I would like thank my competitors. Without other strong duelists, there is no way I’d improve.” With his free hand, he flipped through his hair. “So be sure to not give up just because you’re not as perfect as me.”

The crowd cheered and clapped, Shingo blowing kisses to the crowd. All the attention… all the adoration and praise was making Shingo light on his feet, almost floating.

His body stiffened hearing the wet jab of a knife to his back. Twitching, Shingo turned his head to see the ginger…  _ laughing _ . Laughing as Shingo fell, dropping and shattering the trophy.

“Wh-” Shingo muttered, limbs weakening.

“Pyrite may look like gold, but it’s cheap and useless,” the assistant said, taking off his glasses. “Almost like you, except pyrite is  _ quiet _ .”

Words sped through Shingo’s mind before he settled on one. “D-danny! You were a Lancer!”

“Yes,” he replied, covering part of his face, “except my name is  _ Dennis _ .”

“Why-” Dennis covered Shingo’s face with a gloved hand, picking him up by the chest, to which he squirmed the best he could. “A real attention whore deserves to be surrounded by his cheering fans as he dies.” He smiled wickedly to the crowd. “Obelisk Force?”

Shingo’s eyes darted back and forth seeing the students- no, the enemies- no,  _ his upcoming murderers _ \- approaching him, a knife in each person’s hand. Dennis held him firmly in place, no matter how much he thrashed. One by one, they stabbed him. In the chest, tearing at his favourite shirt. At his arms, his arms going slack and fists uncurling. His thighs stabbed, his legs losing any feeling. Seeing the carnal action, seeing him bleed the colour he detested, he squeezed his eyes shut with the little strength he had left, sour tears pouring down his cheeks. 

Unkindly, Dennis let go, letting Shingo slump to the ground, blood pooling around him as he landed on his back. Some left their knives in, while others took a quick jab and left him to his misery. He heard a quiet voice as his body was starting to shut down. “Speak, hands for me!” With that, the purple haired man’s knife stabbed directly into his heart, Shingo’s back arching and eyes shooting open as a fountain of blood escaped his mouth. As soon as he hit the ground, he was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Ides


	3. Act II

Subject: _Crow Hogan. Age 17(?) Father of three [or more] children. Boyfriends [I didn’t see a ring] with Shinji Weber. Lancer for less than a week before being carded. Easily provoked; avoid talking about carding or Reiji._

Crow peeked his head into the doorway as the bell at the head of the cafe rang. His face was flush, panting slightly. Upon arrival, Dennis put away his phone, waving. “There you are.” Crow walked over, Dennis standing up at his table with a gentle smile. “Your directions were super specific with the street names and I got lost. I couldn’t call you since I didn’t get your number-”

“It’s all good, Crow,” Dennis said, shaking Crow’s hand once he was at the table. “All that matters is you’re here.”

Crow nodded, taking a seat. “I’ve never been out to this side of New Domino. Usually everywhere Shinji and I would like to go is sectioned off for Tops only.”

“Shinji?” Dennis inquired, leaning into his hand as he drank at his iced coffee. “Friend of yours?”

He stiffened, surveying the crowd. There was a purple haired man cleaning tables, a grey haired woman working the cash register, another grey haired person in the back pacing back and forth talking on his phone, and a blond woman drinking tea reading a book, glaring up at the man occasionally. The cafe was mostly quiet, other than the fan blades and the man on the phone. Crow pursed his lips. “Yes. Shinji is my best friend.”

Dennis looked somewhat surprised. “The way Yuuya described you made me think you and Shinji were a lot _closer_ than friendship…” he twirled the straw in his drink with his finger. “But what does _Yuuya_ know.”

Crow’s face scrunched. “Did you call me over just to judge all my friends? Dennis that’s fucking weird.” His fingernails dug into the grooved wood table.

“No no,” Dennis answered, putting his hands up. “My apologies. It’s just we never got to really get to know each other, Lancer-to-Lancer. I just…” He folded his hands together. “Want to get to know you. Oh!” He gestured with his head to the menu. “You really should order something.”

“I really don’t have that kind of change-”

“It’s my treat, Crow.”

“I’m fine-”

“ _Crow_ ,” Dennis pressured, “it’s all good. Take a load off. It’s just me here.”

Crow ran through the menu, skipping most entries, completely lost with the fancy language. “Just a black coffee is fine.”

“Absolutely” Dennis purred, walking up to the barista to place the order.

In the meantime, Crow continued to look around the place. The man had his laptop out, phone still glued to his ear. The woman had a different book out, but at least she didn’t look as close to strangling the man. The purple haired man [possibly a busboy?] was writing the events on the chalkboard. Slam poetry on Thursday… whatever that meant. Today there was supposed to be a stage production of Troilus & Cressida. Maybe they’d be able to stay for it. In the corner of the board was a drawing of White Potan drinking a cup of coffee.

“Coffee!” Dennis announced, placing the cup down in front of Crow.

The cup was pristine white without a single crack. Nothing like they had at home. “Thank you. Seriously.” Crow gently blew at the coffee, taking a small sip. His lips curled in dissatisfaction. “It’s... _Strong_.”

Dennis nodded. “High quality blend.”

Crow took another sip. “It’s got a weird taste to it.”

Dennis laughed a little. “That’s why _normal_ people put cream and sugar in it.”

Crow fake laughed, sipping it again, still questioning the flavour. Was it bitter or salty? He wasn’t exactly sure.

“What were we talking about… oh yes. Being Lancers.”

Sighing, Crow placed the cup down, Dennis following the movement with his eyes. “I really don’t feel that much like a Lancer, to be honest.” He leaned onto his hand, eyes fixating on the bookshelf behind Dennis. “I felt like fodder. Like my whole purpose was to watch Reira… and Sawatari.” He took another sip of coffee. “Little scamp.” He looked at Dennis with a gentle smile. “How is he? Haven’t seen him in forever.”

Dennis covered his laugh with a cough. “Oh… smiling, surrounded by his fans, I’m sure.”

“That’s good,” Crow said, sipping more coffee. “I’m not really tight-knit with the others myself. You?”

“Well, not as close as we could be.” He tented his fingers. “I’m going to see the lot of them fairly soon.”

“I’m glad you’re getting to know your friends better.” Crow downed the rest of the coffee. “I have got to remember not to order their black coffee again.”

“You won’t need to.”

Crow looked to the two Dennises confused. “What are you talking about… Oh wow there are two of you, huh. Why didn’t you tell me you had a twin brother?”

“Oh him? That’s just my stunt double.” The purple haired man at the chalkboard coughed loudly, both Dennises looking over to him. “I’m joking, Crow.” He looked back to Crow with a somewhat smug expression. “Are you feeling… dizzy? Perhaps _faint?_ ”

Crow tried to move his head to nod, but his head hung limp. “ _What…?_ ” He wasn’t sure if he spoke it or was just thinking it all. The ringing and buzzing blared in his mind. _One Dennis. Two. One. Two._ In the brief bout of time there was only one Dennis, he reached behind him to the can of umbrellas, pulling out a spear. Before anything could click, it pierced through his limp body. Eyes shot wide open, he fell backwards from his chair, staring at the ever spinning fan, which was slowly blotted out with Dennis’ wicked smile.

Time moved slowly and fast, all at the same time as Crow’s blood seeped out from the wound. He found himself outside on the side of the road, back leaning against Blackbird, surrounded by the cafe patrons and employees. One of them lifted his arms effortlessly, a rope being tied around his waist.

Dennis came into his vision again. There was only one of him this time, and it was as ugly and cruel. “I really only just met you, so no hard feelings?”

Crow couldn’t move. He wanted to curse him out. He wanted to ask who all these people were. He needed to know why he was doing this. But he couldn’t. With all his strength, Crow managed to whisper out “ _Shinji_ ” before coughing at the blood entering his lungs, eyes prickled with tears.

“Don’t worry,” Dennis said, fitting his kinky red hair into Crow’s helmet. “You’ll be able to see him soon.” He left Crow’s weakening vision, the bike soon after starting up. As the bike moved, Crow was yanked along. When they hit the first bump, Crow’s vision left him.


End file.
